Living out of our Imagination

The sad truth is that most people spend more time planning their summer vacation than they do planning the rest of their life.  That’s poor stewardship of right-brain imagination.  Goal setting is good stewardship.  Instead of letting things happen, goals help us make things happen.  Instead of living by default, goals help us live by design.  Instead of living out of memory, goals help us live out of imagination.  -- Mark Batterson in The Circle Maker

I am a nerd.  I joyfully accept the label.  I love to play with computers, I am a Star Trek fan, I alphabetize my spice rack (who doesn't?), and I make lists.

I am creative and imaginative.  I accept that label with trepidation, although I believe it to be true, and believe that my creativity is a gift from God.

Each morning, I make a list of what I need to accomplish that day.  Each Monday, I make a list of what I would like to accomplish that week.  Each month, I have a list of goals.  If, at the end of the day, or of the week, or of the month, I haven't check off my lists, life goes on.  I don't see my lists as a trap, but as a way to keep my mind organized.  I like it, although I do understand that my system would never work for everyone.

I have been asked to be the Media/Tech person for an upcoming Women's Walk to Emmaus.  I've never done that before, but I'm looking forward to it.  I was sitting in Panera a few days ago (it was a day off), and I was enjoying my morning, making lists and worksheets to prepare for the first team meeting.  A friend walked up and asked what I was doing.  "Organizing my brain for the upcoming walk."

Out of this intentionality (an offshoot of my nerdiness) will spring creativity.   It will prepare me to spontaneously respond to crises and issues as they arise.

Do we approach church life with this same intention?  Do we take this kind of time to plan ministry?  Do we live in the past, doing what we have done before, living out of memory, or do we set goals so that we can live out of imagination?

Teaching

What is the purpose of coaching?  To expand that a bit, what is the purpose of teaching?  Or one of the purposes?  If you eliminate from consideration the mission to impart information, then what is left?

This question probably applies most to coaching -- or at least is easiest to see when we look at sporting events.  Picture the coach of a little league team.  Is he teaching them how to play?  Do they learn the rules and strategies of the game?  I hope so.  But what else?

What do we learn from the people who teach us?

When the coach is screaming at the child (or the teenager), what is he teaching (masculine pronoun only for convenience)?   If the only goal is to win, then what is the lesson?

If the teacher is telling the students, "You need to know this for the test," then what is the lesson?

I was at Rotary a couple of weeks ago.  The guest speaker was Ron Sowell, who is a musician in West Virginia and is part of Mountain State.   During the meeting he sang several songs, including one called I Thought his Name was Coach  Go here to watch the song.   Part of the lyrics are:

He taught me how to hit a curve ball
How to turn a double play
How to win with style and how to lose with grace.
Stand out on the dugout steps and whistle...
Atta boy Redhead
Way to go.

That's a great mission statement for all of us who teach.  Teach the basics, model grace and deliver affirmation.

Building Churches

I'm listening to a series of lectures from The Great Courses about St. Francis of Assisi.  Lecture four talks about his early life.  He was born the son of an Italian merchant in Assisi, and he yearned to reach the status of Knight.  At the age of 20, he fought in a war against a neighboring town and was taken prisoner.  He spent some time as a prisoner of war before being ransomed and released.  After recovering from an illness contracted during this time, he was at a loss regarding what to do next with his life.

God spoke to him and told him that God's church was in disrepair, and that Francis was to go forth and rebuild it.  Francis took this literally.  There were many abandoned churches around Assisi that were falling down, so he started working to repair and restore them.

It might be that that was not what God meant.  Many people in the Church at the time were "going through the motions" of being a Christian.  They were baptized and received the sacraments, but they did not love their neighbor.  The Church, as a Body of Christ, needed to be rebuilt, and later in Francis' life, that is what he attempted to do.

I wonder, though, do we misunderstand God sometimes?  Do we think we discern a call or a Word from God, and act on it, while God is shaking his head.  "No, that's not what I  meant!"

Opposite of Faith

As Jack preached the other day, using Hebrews 11 as his basis, two thoughts about faith stirred in my mind.

What is the opposite of faith?  I think that we would immediately say that doubt is the opposite of faith.  Faith is believing and doubt is not believing.  I think our immediate conclusion is wrong.  Doubt is an intertwined part of faith.  Jack said, "Before Christians can have faith, they must understand who and what they have faith in."  Understanding travels a path that leads to doubt, as we question and struggle with what we think we know to reach the truth.

Faith, I hope, is not stagnant.  It doesn't arrive on our doorstep, perfect, whole and complete.  The only way to grow in the is to cherish the doubts we have and to struggle with them, to use them to reach a fuller, more clearer understanding of the truth.  We shouldn't be afraid of our doubts.  We shouldn't condemn them in others.  Doubt, when honestly dealt with can lead us to stronger faith.

Can't we believe that God can withstand the doubt?  That to struggle through faith, attempting to reach closer to God is part of the plan?

The opposite of faith is not doubt.  What is the opposite of faith?  Apathy? Indifference?  I don't know.

Compel Religion?

"It is assuredly no part of religion to compel religion - to which free-will and not force should lead us." (Tertullian, AD220)

It always amazes me that God has given us free will.  It's a scary gift.  Why put the Tree in the Garden that will allow Adam and Eve to eat of the forbidden fruit?  Would you do that?  Would you put temptation in front of your children and tell them not to touch it?

And yet...

Love that is forced is not love.  Faith that is compelled is not faith.  Belief is only belief if it is reached through free thought.  God guides us and leads us, he spreads his prevenient grace over us, and makes himself known, so that we will believe, but he leaves the choice up to us.

Amazing.

In the time of Jesus, those in Rome were forced into worship of Ceasar.  Jesus stood and held a coin, and said, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's"  Caesar can have the coin.  What he cannot have is worship.  Worship belongs to God, and it is given of free will.  The state cannot dictate it.  Ortberg says, "The influence of Jesus helped create a state (ours) where people could choose not to follow Jesus."

Have you ever thought that one of the legacies of Jesus is the separation of church and state?

"It is assuredly no part of religion to compel religion - to which free-will and not force should lead us." (Tertullian, AD220)

Bringing about the Kingdom of God

John Ortberg, in his book Who is this Man?: The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus talks about three historical responses to the question, "How will the kingdom of God be brought to earth?"

1. He gives the example of the zealots, who revolted against the Romans, attempting to bring about the kingdom through violence.
2. He talks about the Essenes, who decided to withdraw from society, attempting to bring about the Kingdom of God by separating themselves from the world.
3. He describes the Sadducees, who decided to assimilate, pragmatically joining Rome in collecting taxes and gaining power.

Do we take any of these paths to try to bring about the Kingdom of God, here, today?  Do we try to force people to believe, employing what we might not think of as violence, but covering them with the painful violence of judgment?   Do we withdraw from society, isolating ourselves in church so that the kingdom is confined to those of us who belong?  Do we lose who we are by assimilating into the culture, so that we don't stand out?

How do we bring about the Kingdom of God?  What should be our reaction?  Our plan?

This is what Ortberg says Jesus would tell us:

When they hate us -- and a lot of them will -- when they call us names and throw us in prison, even kill some of us, we won't fight back, we won't run away, and we won't give in.  We will just keep loving them.  We will just keep inviting them to join our side.  That's my strategy.  What do you think?

Faith

I'm listening to a series of lectures about St. Francis of Assisi.  One of the points being made is that the spread of early Christianity can be attributed in part to the witness of martyrs during the Roman persecution.  In the 12th and 13th centuries, when Francis was alive, how do Christians who are modeling their faith after the faith of the martyrs, live a faithful life in a time that is relatively safe for those of the Christians faith?  A time that was in fact a triumphal time for Christianity?

I thought about the rise and growth of Christianity in China -- an environment that is not safe for Christians.  And I thought about the comparatively limp health of Christianity in our country.

I think the question faced by those in St. Francis' time still applies today.  How do we build a vibrant faith, that draws other people to the truth of belief in Christ, in this culture?  We can't escape the question by bemoaning the state of the culture.  This is the place and time in which we live.  How do we live the Good News and tell the Good News in times such as this?  I certainly don't think we need to run off on Holy Crusades or become a self-denying hermit in the mountains, but how do we foster a lively faith?

Truthfully, I don't think its by blurring the line between church and state.  I don't think its by fighting for prayer in schools or the right to have a manger scene on the lawn of the court house.  I'm probably saying something unpopular by stating my belief that those kinds of things are distractions.  I think Christ calls us to love and service, and that's what we are to do.  Feed people.  Love people.  Care for people.  We witness for our faith by what we do.  Are we doing that?

The Race

Read this, written by Arthur F. Gafke (Disiplines 2013):

God's grace surrounds us throughout our race, not simple at the end of it.  This constant grace makes our running possible.

I know we know that.  I know that we say that we realize that God's grace is always with us, but when we think about Hebrews 12:1-2, which tells us to run the race with perseverance, there is an image in our minds of running a race to the finish line.

A race has a goal -- a place where it ends.  The image of a race connotes the idea that we must finish it to reach the goal.  We see heaven as the goal, and reaching God as part of the race.

Do we remember, though, that the running of the race is part of what we are to do.  Our goal is not just to run through this life, keeping the goal of heaven in mind.  Our goal is to participate in the journey.

In the eleventh chapter of Hebrews, the author lists great names in our faith, who ran the race with perseverance.  They aren't on the list because they finished the race; they are on the list because of the journey they took.

God is with us on the journey, and how we run the race matters.  That we run the race, matters.  Sometimes we forget, I think, that God makes it possible for us to take the journey at all.

We are in the kingdom of God.  Now.  Today.  We're not only running toward it, we are running through it.

What we Never Hear

Have you seen this video?  Heard this song?

Anna Kendrick's Cups (Pitch Perfect: When I'm Gone)

It's the song Cups, performed by Anna Kendrick.  It's a rendition of an folk song, When I'm Gone, recorded in 1931 by the Carter Family.

I watched the video this morning after JtM recommended it.  Sound is vitally important in this recording of the song, done to the rhythm of cups hitting the counter and clapping hands.  Even more than that, there are other sounds in the video -- the fan turning, doors opening/closing, the sliding of a pan into the oven.  These are sounds we hear all the time, and yet never hear.

What else in life do we hear all the time and yet never hear?  This video is designed to make those sounds "visible" to us, so that we pay attention to them, because they tell part of the story.

I wonder what parts of the story I am missing each day because I (by necessity sometimes) filter out the sounds I always (and never) hear.

Right now I'm sitting in Panera, writing, waiting for a movie time.  I can hear the ice dropping into a to go cup, terrible music over the loud speaker, the conversation at the next table, and the one at another table, the clerk behind the counter talking to a customer, laughter, footsteps, and a beeper buzzing.  I normally block all of this out so that I can concentrate on writing (or whatever else I'm doing).

Does that bad habit (there's a cricket -- is that a phone or a real cricket in Panera?) cross into the rest of my life?  What sounds of life am I filtering out so as to concentrate on what I need to do.

What views of God at work do I not see?  What sounds of God speaking do I ignore?

Closure

Do you ever watch the Big Bang Theory?  The show was probably already in its third season before I had even heard of it.  I was grocery shopping one day and ran into colleagues from my previous job.  We chatted a while, and the conversation turned to this particular television show.  "You have to watch it," they said.  "Everyone in our department is a character in the show!"  Since then I've been hooked.

On a recent show, Sheldon's girlfriend, Amy, determines that he has an obsessive need for closure, and she determines to change him.  She starts a day of "therapy," depriving him of closure.  They play tic tac toe, and she erases the board before he can win.  She has him wind a Jack in the Box, and then takes it from him before Jack pops out.  He spends what I am sure was hours setting up a "falling dominos" structure (what are those called?) and then has him put the dominos back in the box before he starts the chain reaction.  And on and on.  He gets more and more angry with her.   He needs closure.

The devotion I read this morning is based on Hebrews 11:8-16.  The writer says, "While faithfully living out what we sense God calling us to in the present is a way of expressing our faith, trusting that we have not yet seen the end of the story is another."  (Beth Taulman Miller, Disciplines).

Do we remember that we are in the middle of the dominos falling?  That we are still playing the game?  That the music is still going?  We struggle to understand life and the path we are on, and yet sometimes we forget that we are in the middle of the story.  The curtain hasn't fallen, and God is still at work.  We may want closure, but it's just not time.  We are in the middle of the journey.

(And I won't tell you how the Big Bang Theory show ends -- you'll just have to wait).

Remembering Religion but Forgetting God

I read a devotional this morning, written by Beth Taulman Miller and published in Disciplines 2013. She was writing about Psalm 50, and she said, "God emphasizes the tragedy of remembering religion and forgetting God."

...the tragedy of remembering religion and forgetting God.

Think about that for a while.  What would happen -- what happens -- when we remember our religion but we forget God?

I think it robs the grace from our faith.  When we remember religion, we remember the rules, the history, the law, but we forget the heart.  We forget the reason for it all.  We leave out the grace.  It's so much easier to have a religion that has no God, because then we become the god.  We make the judgments; we enforce the rules.  We decide who is welcome and who isn't -- who is worthy and who isn't.

Our worship becomes empty and without meaning.  We fail to love.  We fail to serve.

May we always remember God in our religion.

Consequences

I stopped at McDonalds this morning.  As I waited to order, I watched as the clerk filled the order of a man standing next to me.  She sat his large coffee on his tray and then turned to start the next task.  He stopped her, saying, "When you put the lid on my coffee, did you cover it with your hand?"  He was concerned that she had touched the portion of the lid where he would be drinking.

"Honestly, sir, I don't remember.   Would you like me to replace the lid?"

He nodded assent, and she took his coffee, removed the lid and replaced it with another one, careful to only snap it into place by touching the edges.  She brought it back to the tray and apologized.  He said, "Whenever I see someone do that, I always say something."  His tone was self-righteous.

The clerk was embarrassed, and made to feel both incompetent and dirty.  When he walked off, she walked over to the sink and washed her hands.

I ask you...was it really important enough to the running of the day for that man to comment on how she had done her job?  He could have wiped off the lid.  He could have (unseen) tossed the lid and asked for another one.  Truthfully, he could have ignored the whole thing -- the hot coffee would have killed anything potentially harmful.  He really has no idea who else has touched the cup or the lid, how clean the pot was when the coffee was made, or even what nasty creatures are already living in his mouth.  For him, the value found in commenting and in having the lid replaced outweighed the hurt he inflicted on the clerk.  I imagine he didn't even consider the harmful consequences of what he was saying.

This post sounds judgmental; I'm feeling judgmental, and that is my confession.  I hope I am reminded that all of our actions have consequences, and part of loving each other is remembering that.

Crytoscopophilia

Have you ever heard of crytoscopophilia?  I never had, but I was reading the book All Wound Up by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee the other day.  The book is a series of essays, and one is entitled Crytoscopophilia  She defines the words as, "the urge to look in people's windows as you pass..."

Wow.  I have never heard of the word, but I certainly know the urge.  It's fun to walk down the street and glance in windows.  Please don't be confused -- this is not stalking.  It's something you do as you pass -- not as you stand in the yard and peek in the window.  It creates glimpses -- fleeting images, really -- of life inside the home.  Almost always the room looks neater than any room in my house.

We make harmless inferences about what we see.  If there is a huge television, we assume they spend a lot of time glued to the set.  If the people are fighting, then we make assumptions about what life is like in the home.  If there is a cat in the window, we label them "cat people."  If he and she are cleaning the room, I wonder if they love cleaning so much that they might like to come over to my house and vacuum my carpet.

Do we do that when we look at people?  Do we make assumptions that we know what is going on in their lives by just glancing at them?  Do we presume we are always right?

What would happen if someone glanced at my life?  What wrong conclusions would they draw?  What about your life?

Could the knowledge of how wrong our conclusions can be -- how wrong other people's conclusions about us can be -- lead us to be less judgmental?

Ligaments

Today I was reading a chapter from John Ortberg's book, Who is This Man:  The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus. He writes:

The very word religion is related to our word for "ligament" -- that which holds a body together.

I haven't looked up the word origins of the two words to give you the original data, but I like the idea.  Religion is the ligament that holds the body together.

Religion sometimes has a bad reputation.  We hear comments like, "I believe in God, but I don't believe in religion."

Truthfully, I don't think it is religion that is the "bad guy" in this story -- it's the believers, who use religion as a tool to harm or judge people.  It is the misuse of religion that is the problem, not the religion itself.

I believe in God, and I believe in the value of religion to connect us.  To organize us.  To increase our impact in manifold ways.  Religion, when we use it right, can further God's purposes.  Go into your garden and commune with God, strengthening your faith and your relationship.  Go to church and, when we are being the church, strengthen the faith of your community.  Open doors for people to find God.

We are not meant to be solitary.  We are part of a body of Christ.

Prayer: The Relationship

One of the lectionary readings this week is Luke 11:1-13.  Read verses 9-13:

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.  Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish?   Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion?  If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"  

How does our prayer life compare to the metaphor of a child speaking to a parent?

First of all, stop for a moment and soak in the marvelous and amazing gift of being able to call God "Father."  It implies relationship, right off the bat.  God invites us into relationship with him, and he considers us to be his children.  Unbelievable, except through grace.

When a child speaks to a parent, he usually does so from a position of trust.  The child (in a healthy relationship) knows that the parent will not provide something that is harmful.  That tells us one or two things about our prayers and our relationship with God.  First, God is trustworthy, and we should have the faith to place ourselves in God's care.  We can trust God not to harm us.  Secondly, a parent doesn't always provide what the child is asking for -- that doesn't mean the prayer isn't answered.  All prayers are answered.  God is always present, always listening, always responding.

Do we miss the last verse?  The Father gives the Holy Spirit to his children.  Always.  Without fail.

It is best, I think, to be in a continuing prayerful relationship with God, but here's another way the parent-child metaphor applies.  We hope that our children always talk with us, always maintain open communication. But what if they don't?  What if they only call when there is a crisis?  Do we turn them away?  No!  We want them to call when there are problems, even if that is the only time they ever call.  It's not the best situation, but the lack of communication the rest of the time doesn't negate our desire to know when they are in trouble?  Does it?

Pray.  All the time, without ceasing.  Be thankful to God for the relationship, knowing that you are heard and that God answers.

Last First Day of School

Yesterday was the first day of school. It was also the last first day of school for our two boys. (When I told this to my younger son, he said, "What about college, Mom?)

Yes, college has first days of school, too, but yesterday was my younger son's first day of school as a senior in High School, and our family's last first day of school.

That's OK. I'm not sad about it. I love the way the were, years ago, with fresh boxes of crayons and pointed pencils, new notebooks and backpacks, crammed with school supplies from their "list," provided by the teacher. I remember taking time off work to go with them the first days, walking down the school hallway in the excitement of finding their names on the classroom roster beside their new school rooms.

But, I also love the way the are now, one of them preparing to go back to college and the other driving his car to Target to buy his own school supplies (OK, I miss picking out the notebooks with him, but there is something exciting about the idea that he did it on his own). I enjoy the almost adult conversations around the dinner table, as they tell us stories about their days and their dreams.

I love the way they are now, and I loved the way they were then. I wouldn't trade any of it. I'm not sad that time passes because tomorrow brings a new joy and a new excitement.

Yesterday was the last first day of school, and it just serves to remind me that time passes amazingly fast, and each moment can be embraced and treasured for the love and joy it brings

As a Child to a Parent

Read Luke 11:9-13:

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.  Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish?   Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion?  If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"  

How does our prayer life compare to the metaphor of a child speaking to a parent?

First of all, stop for a moment and soak in the marvelous and amazing gift of being able to call God "Father." It implies relationship, right off the bat.  God invites us into relationship with him, and he considers us to be his children.  Unbelievable, except through grace.

When a child speaks to a parent, he usually does so from a position of trust.  The child (in a healthy relationship) knows that the parent will not provide something that is harmful.  That tells us one or two things about our prayers and our relationship with God.  First, God is trustworthy, and we should have the faith to place ourselves in God's care.  We can trust God not to harm us.  Secondly, a parent doesn't always provide what the child is asking for -- that doesn't mean the prayer isn't answered.  All prayers are answered.  God is always present, always listening, always responding.

Do we miss the last verse?  The Father gives the Holy Spirit to his children.  Always.  Without fail.

It is best, I think, to be in a continuing prayerful relationship with God, but here's another way the parent-child metaphor applies.  We hope that our children always talk with us, always maintain open communication. But what if they don't?  What if they only call when there is a crisis?  Do we turn them away?  No!  We want them to call when there are problems, even if that is the only time they ever call.  It's not the best situation, but the lack of communication the rest of the time doesn't negate our desire to know when they are in trouble?  Does it?

Pray.  All the time, without ceasing.  Be thankful to God for the relationship, knowing that you are heard and that God answers.

Science and Art

I read an article written by Stephen Beal called Turn STEM to STEAM: Why Science needs the arts.  His premise is that science and the arts are intertwined - they have similar purposes and processes and that advances in one will require the illumination from the other one.

I passed the article onto my younger son, the trumpeter.  He read it, and we talked about it.  I don't think he was as convinced as I was in the truthfulness of what the author wrote about, but I may have changed his mind.

I am a living example of how science and art can interact and enhance each other.  When I worked in the lab, doing very "scientific" work, with procedures and strict experimental design, I saw the value of creativity -- it's an inescapable component of problem solving.  In my life now, as I work in a less scientific field, I find that I use my analytical skills very often, in order to describe and understand the world in which I am working.

I wonder, though, if we get stuck in the idea that the skills and gifts we need for a particular mission are from a small subset of what is possible. Do we forget that value of metrics when we do the work of evangelism?  Do we believe that our Finance Committees can't benefit from creative ministry?  Do we think God draws lines around what we are to do?

A friend, who serves on our Church's Board of Trustees, said the other day, "I don't know why I'm a member of this Committee.  I don't bring any financial gifts at all."

Have you served on a lay leadership committee in the church?  Do you find that only the "accounting" type people are appointed to the finance committee?  Do you see that only the people involved in childhood education are asked to serve on Christian Education Committees?  What would happen if an artistic person served on Finance?  Would he be frustrated or would he enhance the work being done?  What if the neighborhood accountant was asked to do visitation?  Would she like it, and would she expand the vision of the committee?  Or not?

I'm glad my friend serves on the Board of Trustees, because I think the Committee needs the other gifts she does bring.  I think this line of thought opens up two opportunities for us.  I wonder if our work is narrowed because we draw boxes around it.  We need to open ourselves to the possibilities of asking people to serve in areas of church leadership where they don't have traditional expertise, and we need to listen to what they have to say.

Life is Like the Ocean

I may have written this post before, but every time I stand in the ocean, I have these same thoughts.

When the ocean is calm enough, you can stand in it at just the right "sweet spot," and avoid most of the crashing waves as they come to shore.  Often, when we are at the beach, our boys will come down to the beach (Steve and I, who don't sleep half the day away, will have already been in our beach chairs for a while).  The four of us will go out and find that sweet spot, and stand, bobbing around, talking.  As I stand there, I am reminded that life is often like the ocean, and our experience of it.

• As you stand in the water, there is a challenge not to be caught in the breaking of large waves.  You have to pay attention, and get the timing and activity coordinated just right.  It's important to pay attention to the wave in front of you, not the ones that are two or three waves away.  Life is like that. Deal with the issue right in front of you, and stop worrying about the ones far away.  If you do that in the opposite way, you will find that you lose your focus on the immediate problem (the oncoming wave), and it crashes into you.  You will also find that the waves far away change before they reach you -- getting smaller or larger, or moving in a different direction.  You don't really have enough information to adapt your actions to accommodate them, yet.  You are just wasting worry, and missing out on what is right in front of you.
• In the ocean, as a wave approaches, it helps to move toward it.  That sounds counter-intuitive, but by moving toward it, you reduce the amount of time the wave has to build up energy.  By approaching the wave, you reduce its impact.  The same is true of life at times.  If you move toward a problem, you can work through it before it builds more energy to impact you.
• It's important to find your place in the ocean -- the sweet spot.  For me, compared to my guys, it may mean that I need to be in shallower water, since I am shorter.  Even so, there is a place to stand that makes the experience better.  Too close to shore, and you won't be able to avoid any of the crashing waves.  Too far out, and your feet won't reach the ground.  There is a place for us to stand in life where our gifts and graces will be put to the best use.  That place is the sweet spot -- joy.
• It's better to swim with a buddy.  Fears are less, and conversations are better.
• When a wave crashes into you, it is imperative to recover quickly.  If you don't, then the next wave will take you unaware.  Recover quickly, so that you can see what is coming next. 
• It's not all just bobbing about in the water -- there is hard work.  As a wave coming, you have to keep your eye on the ball, plan what you are going to do.  The wave may require jumping high to avoid it, or holding your breath and swimming through it.  

Life is like the ocean sometimes.  The best part is that we can enjoy it.

Fishing

One evening, while we were at the beach, I was standing in the surf, watching this man throw his net into the water, over and over again.  He wasn't catching anything, and I wondered what he was trying to catch.  His actions seemed to be in vain.

Jesus says, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people."  (Kim's paraprase).

The ocean seems very large, and the mission feels much too big for my little net.

One of the times I served on an Emmaus team, one of the team members talked about fishing.  She was a teacher in a public school, and she didn't feel like she could cast her net for every student -- it was too overwhelming, and could possibly result in problems for her, so she prayed that God would show her where to cast her net.  The answer she discerned didn't please her -- she felt led to reach out to the student who was causing the most trouble in her class.  She obeyed God, and tossed the net in this teenager's direction.  It wasn't easy, but her actions did make a transformational difference in the young man's life.

We throw our nets out, reaching not for every person in front of us, but for one person at a time.  I've heard it compared not to fishing with a net, but instead, fishing with a pole.  God will lead the way, if we are willing to follow.

By the way, he man in my picture did catch what he was aiming for.  I later saw him showing his young grandchildren the tiny 2-3 inch fish in his net.  I think he was fishing for memories with his grandchildren.

The Sower

The Bishop's sermon at Annual Conference this past June was centered around the parable of the Sower (Matthew 13:1-9).  There were many "ah ha" moments for me in the sermon, and when I returned home, I wrote this poem -- my image of the sower.  Remember as you read this, that the sower is God, and that we are called to act in God's image.

The sower,

hands callused from work,
ageless in appearance,
reached into the bag of seed
with determination.

His hands had large palms
and long, artistic fingers.
He filled them with seed.
He lifted his hand,
heedless of the seed that spilled between his fingers,
that slid out of his palm,
that piled on the ground at his feet.

The sower slung seed across the ground.
With prodigal abandon.
With radical generosity.
His eyes were not on the dirt at his feet,
but instead were focused on some distant future.
It was as if he could see the plants that would spring forth
From the seed scattered.

He sowed the seed on dry ground.
Fertile ground.
Rocky ground.
Land choked with weeds and thistle.
He sowed recklessly.

He kept reaching into the bag at his side
Filling his hands with seed,
Unworried that his supply would dwindle,
for, indeed, it did not.
Seed was not scarce;
It was abundant.

A child walked along side the sower,
trying to learn how to follow in his footsteps
but perplexed by his actions.
"You are doing it wrong!
You must choose the ground wisely,
not wasting seed.
If I plant as you plant,
most of the seed
will not grow.
Surely you do not want me to do this?"

The sower answered,
"To be a sower,
all you must do is sow.
I do not hold you accountable for how much seed you plant,
only for the seeds you do not plant.
I do not expect you to make the seed grow,
only to plant it.
I will not judge your failures,
for if you sow, you have not failed."

"Hold out your hands," the sower told the child.
Seed poured forth from the hands of the sower
into the cupped hands of the child.
Overflowing.
Piling up at their feet.
The two looked at each other and grinned.
The child gathered his courage,
turned,
and tossed seed into the air.
As they watched it cascade to the ground,
they both laughed with the joy of it.

Perceptions

Three quarter moon at the beach

Have you ever taken a picture of snow and noticed that what is in reality bright, almost blinding white comes out gray and dreary in the image?  It's because cameras believe that the world is gray, so it adjusts exposure to meet that "reality."

Are we ever like that?  Do we realize that our own beliefs color the way we see reality and thus the way we react to it?

It may be that we expect that everything will be gray, so that when the good, wonderful things happen we miss them.  When the darkness comes, we ignore it.

Those of us with a positive outlook will see the best in a situation; those of us that expect the worst, will always find it.  This happens with events and with people.

The thing is, we think the way we see what is around us, or who is around is, is the absolute reality.  We forget the influence our own expectations have one what we perceive.